


A Merry Little Christmas

by SomewhereApart



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric goes to Calleigh's the week before Christmas with a gift that he hopes will change things between them. Then he sees the mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Only one thought ran through Eric Delko's mind as he waited for Calleigh to answer her door: he was an idiot. Really, just dumb as a rock. He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his shirt, gripped the small, wrapped box in a slightly sweaty palm, and wondered how in his right mind he'd thought this had been a good plan. Surely, somewhere between the conception of the asinine idea, the jewelry counter, the two weeks of staring at the box on his dresser since then, the decoy Secret Santa gift, and the drive here it should have occurred to him that this plan could very well mess up what was currently a very good thing. Sure, it could end up getting him exactly what he wanted, but he'd known Calleigh Duquesne long enough to know that rushing her into something could just as easily get you met with a cold shoulder as success. And sure, there had been signals – big, glaring, you-could-navigate-airplanes-at-night-by-them signals that she felt the same way, but –

The door opened, releasing a cloud of cinnamon and gingerbread that instantly suffused him with almost as much warmth as the pleasantly surprised smile on Calleigh's face. Right, he thought. She was what had possessed him. "Eric. What brings you by unannounced?"

He tried to nonchalantly shift the present into his back pocket. "I was just… I wanted to – Can I come in?" Fabulous. Very smooth, Delko. Very not suspicious.

Thankfully, she ignored his bumbling idiocy and just stepped back with an apologetic shake of her head. "Of course. Must've left my manners on the couch with my Chex Mix."

"Chex Mix, huh?" She was wearing an old Tulane sweatshirt and shorts, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. And she was still smiling. Always smiling, his Cal. He took a moment to wonder how long he'd been considering her "his" as he stepped into her home, careful to angle himself so she couldn't see the box in his jeans.

"Of course. It is the customary Christmas movie snack, you know." She shut the door behind them and headed back toward her living room. Eric very nearly followed, but then he noticed the sprig of greenery hanging about a foot away. Mistletoe. As if his pulse wasn't already jumping enough, he took the short step to the side, then cleared his throat. She turned, frowned, then followed his finger when he pointed above his head and quirked one brow in what he hoped came across as mischievous amusement. He must have hit the mark because she laughed a little, cheeks pinking slightly as she walked back toward him slowly. "I, uh, I was hoping no one would notice that."

"Then why'd you put it up? Must have been hoping _someone_ would drop by and… accidentally stand underneath." Okay, this he could do. The flirting, the teasing. They did this all the time. No reason to be nervous. This was only Calleigh. And there was only a 600 bracelet in his back pocket. Shit. There were the nerves again. It didn't help that she had just planted herself about half a foot in front of him, close enough for her smell to pervade the spice of the air around them. Roses. She always smelled like roses.

"Actually, I was thinking I might have a Christmas party, and just watch as other poor souls got caught underneath while I kept a wide berth. But then I got busy and I never got around to sending invitations, and now here we are a week from Christmas and there's no time for a party on such short notice, so its just… here." The more she spoke, the faster the words came, and that their close proximity made her babble was certainly a comfort. At least he wasn't the only one affected. "You're smirking at me."

"You're babbling."

"You're standing under my mistletoe."

"I am."

"Customarily, that means I should kiss you."

"It does."

"So I'm babbling."

"So you are." His grin widened. Throwing her off her game seemed to have the exact opposite effect on him. Wooing Calleigh was nervewracking, but something about this was… fun. "Why don't I, uh… help you out with that."

Eric lifted a hand to cup her neck, draw her in slowly, and she took the single step needed to close the distance between them. She sucked in air slightly just before their lips met and he couldn't tell if it had been a gasp or if she'd just been steeling herself, but then it didn't matter because he was kissing Calleigh Duquense, and she was warm and soft and he wanted more. He let his lips part just a little, just enough to steal a second press of lip, and then he waited, hovered, lips still touching but barely. She hesitated for just a millisecond, and he thought maybe he'd read her wrong and he was about to be sorely reprimanded for "making advances." But then, mercifully, her mouth slid against his again, and he let this third kiss hold just a second longer than the others before pulling back slowly and swallowing hard. Well. That had been telling.

Still, he wasn't surprised when she took a step back and cleared her throat slightly, pressing her lips together and looking pleasantly thrown. Thank God. She fought for words for a second and he made sure not to smirk at her – he knew her well enough not to smirk while she was reorganizing. Finally, she settled on an exit strategy. "I have enough Chex Mix for both of us."

He grinned, nodded. "Sounds great." Suddenly, he felt much better about that box in his back pocket.

 


	2. Chapter 2

She'd been watching _Love Actually_ and stuffing her face with salty snacks and cocoa when the doorbell rang. Calleigh hadn't been expecting anyone, and she hoped to whatever power was up there that it wasn't someone she should be impressing as she wiped her hands on a napkin and took a quick sip of cocoa before heading to answer. She wasn't exactly dressed for company. In fact, she was dressed for nothing more than curling up alone on the couch for another Friday night alone with her DVD player and a complete disregard for calories.

It was the car in her driveway, visible through the front window, that set her both a little more at ease and a little more on edge. Eric. He wasn't usually the type to show up unannounced. Did they have plans she'd forgotten? Had she left something at work and not realized it until now? Whatever the reason, she was always glad to see him, so she greeted him with a smile as she pulled open the door. "Eric. What brings you by unannounced?"

She caught a glimpse of gold slip behind his back as he slid his hands a little awkwardly into his back pockets. He was hiding something back there; it didn't take a CSI to figure that out. And then he stuttered over his greeting, finally asking to be let in, and she wondered what exactly he was up to. Eric wasn't usually one to stumble, not around her anyway. But it wouldn't do to make him even more uncomfortable, she figured, so she just brightened her smile and took a step back. "Of course. Must've left my manners on the couch with my Chex Mix."

"Chex Mix, huh?" He kept his back to her as he slipped into the space she'd just vacated, removing any doubt about her conclusion that there was something he didn't want her to see yet. That was fine, though. She trusted him; she'd play along until he decided the time was right.

"Of course. It is the customary Christmas movie snack, you know." Keeping her eyes dutifully averted as she shut the door, she made sure to fall into stride ahead of him as she walked back toward the living room. Calleigh didn't realize he wasn't following until she heard him clear his throat. Then she turned, and realized she was in trouble. She'd almost forgotten about the mistletoe she'd hung just inside her door, during a bout of romantic holiday whimsy. It had matched her theme, she'd reasoned – the rest of her house was decked out with holly and ivy and berries this year. Mistletoe had seemed appropriate. Now, it just seemed dangerous. He pointed up, and gave her a look that made it very clear he'd found his footing again – he was going to flirt with her. Familiar territory for Eric Delko, less so for her. Calleigh wasn't quite sure what it was like to be hit full force with the Delko charm, but she was pretty sure she was about to find out. "I, uh, I was hoping no one would notice that."

"Then why'd you put it up? Must have been hoping _someone_ would drop by and… accidentally stand underneath." Valid question. Completely valid question. Also valid was the question of how exactly she'd arrived just inches away from him when a minute ago she'd been almost on the other side of the room. She didn't remember ordering her feet to move, but they had, and now she was close enough to smell him. Soap, and cologne. Male. Familiar. He always smelled so good – when he hadn't just come back from a swamp or a dumpster, that was. She found it distracting. So distracting that it took her a second to remember what he'd asked her, and once it came her to she rushed into the first answer that came to mind.

"Actually, I was thinking I might have a Christmas party, and just watch as other poor souls got caught underneath while I kept a wide berth. But then I got busy and I never got around to sending invitations, and now here we are a week from Christmas and there's no time for a party on such short notice, so its just… here." That sounded lame even to her, lamer the more she watched his face shift into that boyish smirk that she'd seen him use to land so many girls. And to taunt her. She didn't like it, not right now. "You're smirking at me." Lame. So lame.

"You're babbling." Yes, yes, I am; nice of you to notice, she thought, regretting her decision to ignore his nerves earlier. Clearly, he had no plans of showing her the same mercy, which she thought was entirely unfair considering that he was the one who'd put her in this position by parking himself right underneath a time-honored symbol of holiday romance and spit-swapping. She was going to have to kiss him. Now. Not later, not in a few weeks or a few months, when she'd finished sorting out all the pros and cons and risks and rewards. Now.

"You're standing under my mistletoe."

"I am."

"Customarily, that means I should kiss you." Why she was explaining Christmas traditions to a man who had obviously put himself under the mistletoe for that very reason was beyond her, but it seemed she'd suddenly dedicated herself to stating the obvious.

"It does."

"So I'm babbling." Case in point.

"So you are." And oh, of course, he just smiled even more. He was enjoying this. He was _loving_ this. Making her squirm, throwing her off kilter. She made a mental note to make him pay for that at some point in the future, but then he was cupping the back of her next and saying something about helping her, and she was comforted just a little by the fact that his palm wasn't completely dry. He was nervous too, thank God.

Her pulse knocked hard once, twice, and it was like he closed in on her in slow motion. She saw everything in sharp focus – his dark eyes, the curve of his lip, the stubble on his chin. His nose brushed hers, just slightly, and then he was kissing her. This hadn't been her plan for the evening. For them. This was definitely not going according to plan. But then his mouth shifted slightly, those oh-so-soft lips teasing against hers again and she thought this must have _definitely_ been his plan. If she'd been thinking straight, she'd have remembered he hadn't been to her place in weeks and couldn't possibly have known about the mistletoe, couldn't possibly have planned this, but who could think straight with a good-looking, delicious-smelling man a breath away?

He sighed against her, just a little, and she thought he was going to kiss her again, hoped to God he didn't try to deepen the kiss because there was no way a Chex-cocoa-panic combination could be tasty and then she'd just be embarrassed… But he didn't. Didn't kiss her again. He just stood there, his lips a whisper from hers, and then suddenly she found her mouth on his again. She hadn't ordered that either, but it seemed her body was making decisions for her mind today, because she was most definitely the responsibly party in this last kiss.

Finally, thankfully, much to the chagrin of her mouth and relief of her buzzing brain, he eased away enough for her to take a step back. Her mouth was still tingling from the kisses – and why, she wondered? They had been fairly small as far as kisses went. But she pressed her lips together anyway, hoping it would stop the tingling and somehow slow her raging pulse. This was _not_ how she'd planned on spending her evening. And this was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, for God's sake, and he was her colleague and her friend. And her secret fantasy when nothing else worked, but she would never admit that publicly. At least he had the decency not to smirk at her anymore.

They were still standing there, in her foyer, under the mistletoe, and she wondered if it was growing awkward but couldn't figure out how to get out of the room without seeming like an ice queen or a giddy schoolgirl. She was stuck here. Then, she remembered the Chex Mix. The movie. She'd been watching a movie. Perfect. They could watch a movie together like civilized people while she waited for her body to stop going haywire from three little kisses. "I have enough Chex Mix for both of us."

He smiled – didn't smirk, thankfully – and nodded. "Sounds great." Mercy.

She turned and made a hasty retreat to the living room, the little gold box tucked in his pocket the furthest thing from her mind.


End file.
